


What Comes Next

by katieh28



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father-Son Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-12 20:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7120651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katieh28/pseuds/katieh28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walt and Jesse discuss life, death and the afterlife, all over a couple of dishes of ice cream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Comes Next

"Go-Karts?" Walter asked incredulously, staring at the boy liked he had two heads. 

"Uh, yeah," Jesse said, cheeks turning red. "Uh, you know, the new ones down by the golf course. They look awesome and uh, yeah. Just wondering if you wanted to check them out with me." 

"Oh, well, gee, I'd really love to, but, well, I really need to be getting home-" 

"Hey, don't worry about it, Mr.White, it's cool," Jesse said suddenly. "It's no big deal." 

"Rain check?" 

"Yeah, totally." 

Walter looked at him then, and was startled to see the dejected look on his face, like a kicked puppy. 

Jesse slowly shrugged on his jacket and began trudging up the stairs, dragging his feet. He always seemed to be dragging his feet these days. 

"Jesse, wait." 

Jesse spun around, eyeing Walt curiously. "Yeah?"

"Well, I don't have time to go out-uh- Go-karting right now," Walt said.

"Yeah, I know-" 

"-But I have a couple minutes. Want to go...get an ice cream?" 

Jesse narrowed his eyes. "What, is this like some sort of middle school date? You gonna take me to the mall afterwards or something?" 

Walt scowled. "What's so wrong with getting an ice cream?" 

Jesse just shook his head, looking amused. "I mean, nothing, but...what happened to grabbing a beer? You know, like normal people." 

"Normal people go out for ice cream, Jesse. I used to take Junior out all the time when he was young. Every Friday, if I remember correctly. Yes, every Friday, that was it, to celebrate the end of the school week. He always used to cry until I agreed to order him a large, and then he would only eat half of it-" 

"-Are you done?" 

Walt just sighed. "Do you want to go or not, then?" 

Jesse shrugged. "If it'll get you off my back, sure." 

Walt seethed, wanting to scream at the boy,  _I'm doing this for you, you ungrateful druggie! I'm wasting my valuable time because...because..._

It hit Walt, then and there, like a slap to the face. 

He was wasting his time,  _his_ Friday night, palling around with a junkie. And why?

Because he looked sad.

That was it. 

_Because he looked sad._

Walt put his face in his hands and sighed. What was his life coming to? 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh, God," Walt sighed, watching Jesse walk over to the table with his ice cream. "What on  _earth_ is that?" 

"What do you mean?" Jesse asked

"I mean- what  _is_ that?" Walt asked, eyeing Jesse's ice cream. It was pink and blue, covered in every type of candy and sugary syrup imaginable. 

"This is cotton candy, yo. It's the best," Jesse stated, like it was a fact. "Hey, don't look at me like that. It's good." 

"How can you even taste the actual ice cream under all of that crap?" 

"Yo, gummy bears and hot fudge isn't crap, alright? It's the bomb. You're just jealous because you got the shittiest looking ice cream ever." 

"It's vanilla," Walt said humorlessly. 

"Lame." 

"Not lame, Jesse," Walt said, no patience whatsoever. "Vanilla is a classic." 

"Yeah, whatever," Jesse said. 

Walt dug into his ice cream, not really caring for it. Something about this place had changed since it had been Junior's favorite hangout all those years ago. It was different. Walt didn't like it. 

"Hey, so, uh, I know you didn't just ask me out here just to discuss ice cream flavors with you," Jesse said, like it hadn't been  _his_ idea to hang out in the first place. "Mind telling me what's going on?" 

Walt watched as Jesse traced his finger over the lines on the edge of the table. Another nervous tic, he supposed. The boy seemed to have a lot of them these days. 

Walt took a look at Jesse than, a real hard look. He seemed paler than usual, shaky. On edge. 

"How are you doing?" 

"Okay, I guess," Jesse said, shrugging. He kept sticking his spoon in and out of his ice cream, but he wouldn't take a bite. 

"If you want to talk to me about anything-" 

"-Oh God," Jesse said, giving Walt what was probably meant to be a smirk. To Walt, it was just a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "We're not really gonna do this, are we?" 

"What?" Walt asked. "Am I not allowed to be concerned-" 

"No, I mean- thank you. For that. But I'm fine, really." 

But he wasn't fine, Walt thought. And for whatever reason, he cared. 

"Yo, so, um- Mr.White?" 

"Yes, Jesse?" 

"You ever think about what's gonna happen when you- you know. Kick the bucket." 

Walt froze. "Well, of course I have. I've already talked to Saul, he's going to make sure that Skyler and the kids are all taken care of, and-" 

"-No," Jesse said suddenly. "I mean, not like that. I mean...you ever think about what's gonna happen to  _you."_

Walt met Jesse's eyes. He looked nervous, suddenly. More than nervous. Afraid, almost. 

"Jesse, where is this coming from?" 

"I thought about it," Jesse said. "And, like, I don't know if you're religious or anything...but you ever think about it? You know. _Where_ you're going." 

"Jesse," Walt sighed, giving him the classic overly-concerned-teacher look. "...Can't we talk about something else?" 

"Oh, come on Mr.White," Jesse said, blue eyes stuck on Walt with laser focus. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it." 

"Well, of course I've thought about it..." 

"Okay, than, what? What do you- what do you-" 

Walt took a deep breath through his nose. "I don't know how much I've actually considered the afterlife," he said. It sounded rehearsed, formulaic. No emotion. Just the facts. "Everything I've done, I've done for my family. I wanted them to be taken care of after I'm gone. I did what I had to do. Now, I don't pretend to be a saint, but I've always lived my life by a strict moral code-" 

"-Up until now." 

"What?" 

"I mean, you did before," Jesse said. "And like, I totally get that. I always knew you were a good dude, even when you were always on my ass in high school. But, like...it's not like you can say that anymore, right? I mean, you can't tell me you got some 'strict moral code' when you go around killing dudes like it's your job, you know?" 

Walt got unexpectedly quiet. "Everything I've done, I've done for my family," he repeated. 

"Yeah, I know," Jesse said, eyes on the table. "But, like, at what point does that stop being enough?" 

Walt met Jesse's eyes, and he didn't like what he saw. Something about them....something was off. 

"So even after all that...even after everything we've done," Jesse said. His voice was barely a whisper. "You still figure you're okay." 

"I don't know, Jesse," Walt said hesitantly. "I could speculate...I could hypothesize all I want. But you and I both know it means nothing. There's no way I could know. There's no way anyone could know." 

Jesse just nodded, bending the plastic spoon in his hands. 

"-And that's why it does you no good to think about these things, Jesse," Walt said. "Now, come on. Your ice cream is melting." 

Jesse looked down at the ice cream like he's noticing it for the first time. He had barely touched it. 

"You ever get scared?" 

"Really, son, where is this coming from?" 

"I mean, of dying," Jesse said. He was really bending the spoon now, gripping it tight in his hands. 

"I suppose everyone is, to some degree..." 

"But are you?" 

"I did think about it quite a bit before my cancer went into remission," Walt admitted. "I always wondered. But the painkillers that they give you are pretty strong when you're at the end. I would have my wife and children by my side. And death...it's inevitable anyway, isn't it?" 

Jesse nodded, seemingly in his own little world. 

"Sometimes I think about it," Jesse said. 

"You shouldn't," Walt said. "You're a young man, Jesse. You have so much time-" 

"-Save it, Mr.White," Jesse snapped. "You and I both know I ain't dying of old age in some nice little nursing home in my eighties. That's just not gonna fucking happen." 

Walt opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but quickly shut it. 

"All I'm saying is, I think about it," Jesse said. 

"You're afraid." 

Jesse sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Not of, like, the actual death. I think I could take, like, getting shot or whatever, you know-" 

"Jesse!" Walt exclaimed. "You shouldn't say those things-" 

"Look, all I'm saying is I don't care how it goes down. It probably ain't gonna be quick and painless for me, but my actual  _life_ hasn't been that way, so why the Hell would my- you know." 

"Jesse-" 

"It's whatever, okay? That's not- that part doesn't concern me," Jesse said. "I just think about, you know. What comes next." 

"You're going to drive yourself crazy thinking about it, you know that." 

"I know, but, like, I feel like I have to," Jesse said. "I mean, you said it yourself. You did all this for your family. Well, guess what Mr.White? I did all this for  _me._ I did this for  _myself."_

For once, Walt was at a loss for words. 

"So, uh, you know," Jesse said. "I don't know if I believe in all that 'Heaven or Hell' stuff either, yo. But we gotta go somewhere, I guess. You know?" 

Walt dropped his spoon, letting it fall to the floor. Jesse winced slightly at the noise as it came down. 

"Eat your ice cream, Jesse." 

Jesse caught a glimpse of the spoon on the floor. It was glinting, shining in the sunlight, mocking them. 

"You gonna pick that up?" Jesse asked quietly. Suddenly, it seemed very important. Crucial. 

"Nope." 

"You need another one?" 

"No, Jesse." 

Jesse looked away, shifting his gaze out the window as he dug his spoon in and out of his ice cream. In and out, over and over again. He could feel Walt's eyes on him, but he tried to ignore it. He tried, anyway, but he knew it was there. It was always there. 

Jesse looked back to Walt hesitantly, noticing the man was eyeing him with some kind of odd look. He didn't exactly know what it was. Whatever it was, Jesse didn't like it. 

"It's going to be alright, Jesse," Walt said, placing his hand on Jesse's shoulder suddenly. At another time, Jesse might've felt the urge to jerk back. This time, he let him. 

"It's going to be alright," Walt repeated. 

Jesse nodded slowly, his eyes burning with unshed tears. 

"Okay, Mr.White. I know." 

 

 


End file.
